“Really?” Sara asked, trying not to sound suspicious. She mentally counted the days. “I hope your testifying didn’t interfere with the funeral. When was it?”

“Saturday.” Before Sara could ask another question, Doniger added, “To be honest, this last week has been terribly hard. He was sick for a bit – the diabetes got the best of him in the end. That’s why I really didn’t want to get involved with this whole burglary thing. It seemed so pointless compared to everything else I’ve been going through.”

“No, I understand perfectly. I’m sorry I’ve been pressing so hard.”

“It’s okay,” Doniger said. “And I’m sorry I’ve been so short with you. It’s still a new adjustment.”

“Of course,” Sara said. “You have my deepest sympathies. I’m sorry to have bothered you.” The moment Sara hung up the phone, she looked up at Conrad and Guff.

“He’s dead?” Guff asked.

“She says he died this past Friday,” Sara explained. “Apparently he was a diabetic. Says he was sick for a while.”

“You don’t believe that for a second, do you?” Conrad asked.

“Are you kidding? We’ve spent the past two weeks in close contact with this woman and she fails to mention that her husband died? We saw her on Monday, and she never said a word. At that point, she’d barely been a widow for seventy-two hours.”

“What are you going to do?” Guff asked.

“You tell me,” Sara said. “What does it take to get a body exhumed?”

At eight-thirty, Jared was alone in his office. Kozlow had left almost two hours earlier, and Kathleen had just gone home to be with her husband. Relishing the quiet, but unable to relax, Jared sat on the edge of his chair and planned his upcoming conversation with Sara. First, he’d tell her that he’d spoken with Pop at lunchtime. That would get her guard down. Then he’d ask her how work was going. Although that would probably get her guard up, he knew he had to hit the issues quickly. Over the past few nights, no matter the subject, he’d seen Sara’s patience shrinking, and a prolonged discussion about work wasn’t going to make talking to her any easier.

Jared looked at his watch. He couldn’t wait any longer. He’d been tempted to make the call since lunch, but it was smart to hold off until late in the day. By this time, Sara would be tired and frustrated, the long workday taking its usual toll. As his corporations professor in law school used to say, “The wearier the prey, the quicker the kill.” It was the professor’s corniest line, but at this moment, as Jared picked up the phone, he couldn’t have agreed more with its accuracy.

Dialing Sara’s number, he eventually heard her answer, “ADA Tate.”

“Sara, it’s me.”

“What do you want?”

Jared kept his voice warm and sincere. “I just wanted to see how you were doing. Is that okay?”

“That’s fine. What else is going on?”

“I spoke to Pop today. He sounds like he’s doing well.”

“I know. I went by to see him during lunch,” Sara said. “Thanks for checking in on him.”

“Not at all.” They paused.

“Okay, Jared, what’s the real point of this call?”

Jared shook his head. His wife knew him too well. “I wanted to make you one last offer.”

“Jared!”

“Just listen a second. I’m not going to badger you about what’s good for my job or your job. We’re talking about something bigger than careers. You said it yourself – we’re talking about our marriage and our lives. As long as this case goes on, all of that’s at risk. You’ve seen what’s happened in the last week and a half. Every day’s spent grating against each other; every night’s spent ignoring what’s really important. Sara, if we use the dismiss and seal, we can end that right now. Then we can get back to our lives, and our marriage, and Pop, and everything else we’ve been trying so hard to juggle.”

“And that’s your final offer? The famous dismiss and seal?”

“That’s it. After today, I’m starting to prepare the evidentiary motions. And once that starts, even though I’m trying to protect you, we’re going to find ourselves at trial. Now c’mon, honey, what do you say?”

“No matter how you couch it, Jared, it’s pure manipulation. You don’t think I see that?” Sara laughed. “Besides, I’m not making a move until I hear from the medical examiner.”

“What does the medical examiner have to do with this burglary?”

“Well, if we can get him to dig up Arnold Doniger’s body, he’ll tell us if we have to also charge your client with murder.”

Jared leaned forward in his seat. “Who’s Arnold Doniger?” Without getting an answer, Jared heard a click. His wife had hung up.

“What’d he say?” Conrad asked.

“I think he wet his pants right there,” Sara said.

“I can’t believe you hung up on him like that.”

“He deserves it on this one. He calls me up, acting like he’s Joe Law, expecting me to grovel at his feet just because he pulls a couple heartstrings. I hate it when he uses Pop and my career against me – he knows it makes me crazy.”

“Those’re your Achilles’ heels. Any good opponent would exploit them.”

“Well, I don’t want an opponent. I want a husband.”

“If you love him so much, how come you’re not willing to give, Sara?”

Sara looked up at Conrad. She was tempted to tell him about Sunken Cheeks. And that she was only fighting this hard to protect her husband. But instead, she lied, “Because he’s the man on the other side. Giving him a hard time is my goal.”

Conrad watched her carefully. “Do you want to try that one again?” he asked.

Fidgeting with some paper clips, Sara didn’t reply.

“Have it your way,” he said. “I’m done asking.”

Ten minutes later, Guff returned to the office and handed Sara a few pieces of paper. “Here’s the copy of your order to exhume. Judge Cohen signed it, and they’re digging him up tonight. The autopsy’s scheduled first thing tomorrow morning.”

“That’s great,” Sara said as she put the papers in her briefcase. “And thanks again for getting the signature.”

“Don’t thank me. Conrad was the one who knew the judge.”

“Then thank you,” Sara said, nodding her head to Conrad.

“For you, my friend, the world.”

At ten P.M., Jared grabbed his suit jacket from behind the door and stepped into the hallway. Although there were dozens of young associates still working throughout the firm, almost all of the support staff had gone home. As a result, the hallways were deserted. Walking toward the elevators, Jared was still digesting Sara’s news. When he’d gotten off the phone with her, he searched Lexis’s computer databases for information about Arnold Doniger. All he could find was a New York Times announcement of his engagement to Claire Binder, a Radcliffe grad and antiques expert twelve years his junior, and a short obituary from the previous Saturday. Why didn’t Rafferty tell him?

While he was waiting for the elevator to arrive, Jared thought about the newfound confidence in Sara’s voice and what that meant for the case. His palms abruptly filled with sweat, causing him to drop his briefcase. As he bent over to pick it up, the elevator arrived. Inside were Rafferty and Kozlow.

Forcing a smile, Jared said, “What are you…”

Before Jared could finish his sentence, he felt Kozlow’s fist rip into his stomach, sending him crashing to the ground. As Jared gasped for air, Kozlow dragged him into the elevator. When the doors shut, Rafferty pressed the emergency stop button. The blaring emergency alarm screamed. Not giving Jared a chance to breathe, Kozlow kicked him two more times in the stomach. He then picked up Jared’s briefcase and opened it, dumping all the papers on Jared’s now-heaving body.

As the paper littered the elevator floor and the alarm continued to wail, Kozlow kicked him again. He then put his foot on the back of Jared’s head and forced Jared’s face into the floor. “Oh, we’re having fun now, aren’t we?” Kozlow asked. Trying to pick his head up, Jared didn’t answer. He started to spit blood. “I asked you a question!” Kozlow shouted. “Are we having fun, or not?” With a quick push, he once again pressed Jared’s face into the floor. Jared felt like he was going to black out. “Answer me!” Kozlow shouted. “Answer me or I’ll kick your head in!”